


La Lune Ne Garde Aucune Rancune

by TransBuckaroo



Category: Before We Go (2014), Chris Evans - Fandom, Evanstan - Fandom, Sebastian Stan - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Banter, Bearded Chris Evans, Before We Go - Freeform, Evanstan - Freeform, Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Lots of dialogue, M/M, Scott is a good bro, Sebastian Stan - Freeform, Slow Burn, Sorry again, and not exactly before we go, being gay is the most difficult job of all, but gayer, chris 'these hands are rated e for everyone' evans, chris evans - Freeform, chris is a director, chris thinks he can flirt, im sorry for this fic, it was 3am when i started this, probably tho, seb doesnt wanna be here, sebastian is pitiful, sebastian is up to nonsense 25/8, sebastian speaks romanian when he's drunk, too queer for here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-05 20:37:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15178841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransBuckaroo/pseuds/TransBuckaroo
Summary: Alternate Titles:La Lune Ne Garde Aucune Rancune - The Moon Never Holds A GrudgeBefore We Go, But Gayer, & Not Exactly Before We GoLunar HazeThe director's name, he had learned, was Christopher "call me Chris" Evans. He was kind, taller than Sebastian, had good visions, and knew what he was going for with this movie as a whole. He had it all constructed and ready and prepped to shoot until... the second lead had bailed last minute. The film was titled Before We Go, and it seemed simple enough of a concept. Two strangers meeting by chance, second lead getting trapped by inconvenience in New York, and first lead trying to help them out. Thus sparks a roller coaster of a night for them both, and they happenstance fall maybe just a little bit in love. Just a little. Maybe.ORHow Sebastian Stan gets accidentally hired as an actor by Chris Evans and now he can't get out of it because he's too gay to disappoint him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This entire fic is totally my fault. I just wanted Before We Go to be gay, also Evanstan is fun to write, and I thought of this at approximately 3am whilst watching the film on Netflix. My bad. I tried to follow the script as closely as possible, so I don't own most of that, it belongs to the movie's writers. Anywho, I hope you have fun reading, and that this fic doesn't totally suck. Enjoy! All errors are my own! Kudos and comments are appreciated! :)

Sebastian Stan was pretty run-of-the-mill, in retrospect. He worked set lighting for movies and television shows, hanging around up in the rafters with spotlights and down behind the camera with reflectors and stage sequences. It was easy, really. Wasn't his dream job, but it was easy. He got paid, that's kind of all that mattered much anymore. This was as close to his dream job as he was ever going to achieve.

There was a new set that came up about a month ago, new territory, new terrain, new people to function around. This was an outdoor production, some romantic comedy Sebastian didn't understand as well as he probably should care to had come to New York with a director that was also one of the main characters. Sebastian was very fine to stay on the side, look at the script his team was given for cues and ideas of how they'd work everything out, and stay far away from whatever else was going on that wasn't purely his business.

 

Today had been the fourth day for auditions, and Sebastian had seen actor after actor walk in and out of the room to no avail, trying to get a spot for the second lead in the movie the director had envisioned. None of them fit the bill, every guy that came in with nothing also left with nothing. Disappointed, unimpressed, crestfallen. It was just plain sad, really. There had to have been at least fifty or so people that came in to try out for the part. They only had a few days left to get the last cast member in before the production had to move on or get tossed.

 

The director's name, he had learned, was Christopher "call me Chris" Evans. He was kind, taller than Sebastian, had good visions, and knew what he was going for with this movie as a whole. He had it all constructed and ready and prepped to shoot until... the second lead had bailed last minute. The film was titled Before We Go, and it seemed simple enough of a concept. Two strangers meeting by chance, second lead getting trapped by inconvenience in New York, and first lead trying to help them out. Thus sparks a roller coaster of a night for them both, and they happenstance fall maybe just a little bit in love. Just a little. Maybe.

 

Truthfully, there was a lot of work to do, given the setting was all over New York streets and buildings, meaning sound and lighting and all the rest of the team had to be quick and right and on time. It had to be right, and a lot of it had to be done meticulously. Sound, lighting, camera. But Chris was a great director. Easy to work with, radiated friendliness and sunshine, and was patient as ever as long as the movie remained in production. It was important to him, and Sebastian couldn't necessarily blame the guy. It all looked a little personal.

 

At the moment, Sebastian had been sent out on break, and it was getting dark outside and people were a little tired but still ready to go if the second lead was finally found. Chris was at a laptop behind a camera, typing away and talking to some blonde woman that was definitely higher up the ladder in getting this put together. He looked a little confused, arguably frustrated, but no less in as high of spirits as he could be in to get things hashed out. Sebastian had originally gone over to ask if he could be of any assistance, maybe bring back a coffee as a token of good faith, but the second Chris looked up at him, something went off in his eyes. An idea not previously pursued, something wondrous in his mind he needed right now immediately before the moment had passed.

 

"You," Chris had started in, seeing Sebastian approaching. "You're perfect, come here. I wanna talk to you." Which should've been the first clue for Stan to bolt, but curiosity, as they say, killed the cat.

 

"Me? What can I help you with, Mr Evans?" Because professionalism couldn't possibly get him fired, and this gig was something he needed.

 

"Call me Chris." Right. "What's your name, man?"

 

"Uh, I'm Sebastian Stan. I work lighting, really behind the scenes stuff during productions for films."

 

Chris popped up from his director's chair, more or less thrilled, looking Sebastian up and down before speaking again. "With a face like yours, that's not what I would've guessed. Where are you from, Stan?"

 

"I'm from Romania. Been in New York since I was twelve."

 

"Romania?" Yes, Romania, Chris. That was always the first response, Sebastian despised it, but couldn't really blame people. "Bucharest?"

 

"Constanta. Different place."

 

"What brought you to New York?"

 

"Romanian Revolution. New York sounded better."

 

"How old are you?"

 

"Twenty-six, sir."

 

"Chris."

 

"Chris."

 

"What did you wanna be when you were little, Sebastian?" Since when had this turned into an interview? Sebastian was just trying to be nice and get the dude some coffee, good lord.

 

"A number of things."

 

"Ever wanted to be an actor?"

 

"Yes, every kid has. Doesn't make me any good at it. It's not my gig."

 

"It should be, and today it will be."

 

Sebastian, understandably, was shocked at this simple decision. He shook his head, confused, and glanced behind himself toward his station. He couldn't just leave his job, could he? He wasn't an actor, he was terrible at it. He didn't wanna just abandon his work for making a fool out of himself in front of an important director. But, hell, he couldn't disappoint this important director by saying no.

 

"You don't actually want me to do this, believe me. My drama teacher kicked me out in high school because of how bad I was at acting. You can't possibly--"

 

"I can," Chris stated simply with a nod of his head. "and I just did. Hand over the headset, pal. You don't need that anymore. You have a more thrilling job for this production."

 

With a charming grin and a twirl of his finger, Chris' assistant had taken the headset from Sebastian, and handed it off to someone else. With a whistle, Chris had somehow beckoned over another person, and all Sebastian could do was stand there and watch it all happen, looking like a lost fool. Man, he just wanted to be nice and bring back a coffee refill. Now he wasn't even able to get coffee for himself.

 

"Toni," Evans started in, clasping his hands together in front of his mouth. "Him." Gesturing to Sebastian. "What do you think?"

 

The woman looked to Sebastian with assessing eyes, one brow raised quizzically as she sized him up. Admittedly, he felt like she was scrutinizing every last detail, and his face was getting warm with embarrassment under all the stares directed at his person.

 

"He's lovely, good choice. Where did you find him?" the woman asked, an English lilt to her words. She had an accent, the praise was reassuring. Marginally. Stan still felt naked even in his coat and scarf.

 

"He found me. Said he worked in lighting. Name's Sebastian Stan, Romanian, here since he was twelve. He's twenty-six. Perfect fit, right?"

 

"Perfect indeed," Toni nodded, reaching out to tilt Sebastian's chin upward. "Lighting? With such a beautiful character? Why in the world are you being hidden behind the camera when you should be in front of it?"

 

"Uh--" Sebastian couldn't even get a word in, because Chris answered for him as this Toni lady inspected his features. These people were weird, he decided.

 

"He said he can't act."

 

"I don't believe it."

 

"Neither do I. Said his drama teacher kicked him out because he was so bad."

 

"Clearly wasn't doing their job of teaching." She looked to Chris, then back at Sebastian, whom of which was no less uncomfortable. "This true, sweetheart?"

 

Sebastian nodded. Or, tried to. "Yes, ma'am. I'm fine with my job where I am."

 

"That can't possibly be all honest. You're being humble. A boy with big dreams is what you are. You need exposure. You need to be in front of that camera. I can work easily with you, trust me, you're phenomenal."

 

Seeing Chris smile out of the corner of his eye, Sebastian knew he had no other option with the excitement and glee on this man's face. He closed his eyes, defeated, and nodded with a small sigh. He'd try, but there was no telling how terrible he'd really be. Stan hadn't exactly pursued acting since the embarrassment of his junior year. His teacher had to get him removed from the class, and he gave up acting right when he saw the disappointment on her face. It was traumatizing.

 

"Wonderful! James Buchanan Barnes, it's him. Can we do costuming right now? You think we have the stuff? I wanna film as soon as possible. Tonight, if we can." What? Chris had to be out of his mind, right?

 

"Well, I don't--" Sebastian tried, only for Toni to speak up again. They wouldn't accept his disbelief in his abilities. Not at all.

 

"Of course. Costume, get the opening sequence cranked out, maybe do head shots before we wrap for the night. He doesn't even need anything from hair and makeup, look at that jawline and those cute curls, Chris. Flawless, no?"

 

"Flawless," Chris agreed. "Come on, Seb-- You mind if I call you Seb? We've gotta get you dressed. In character, you'll look great. You've read the script multiple times, you know what's going on. Let's get you dressed. You remember the opening sequence? You run through Grand Central, I'm playing trumpet, maybe there's a voice over-- you've got a real nice voice. You drop your phone, miss your train, I return the broken phone to you when you come back up the steps. Opening sequence. We'll see how far we get."

 

Then they were walking, Toni tagging along to the costuming area. Chris had an arm slung around Sebastian's shoulder (damn him for being taller), pulling out his phone to text someone, presumably about Sebastian, some big grin on his face. They turned the corner, and there was the costuming trailer, Sebastian being shown inside with Chris and Toni. There were two other people in the trailer, whose attention was caught as Chris let himself in.

 

"What's up, Evans?" one of them asked, standing from the table he was sitting at with another woman.

 

"I have James. Right here." Chris pat Sebastian on the shoulder, proud. "This is Sebastian Stan, he works lighting rigs, but I can't not bring him in on this."

 

"Yeah, sure, seems great. You need the clothes, or is he filming tomorrow?"

 

"Costumes now would be great, if I can snatch those from you."

 

"Absolutely, no problem. We'll let you have at it, get him dressed. We'll be outside."

 

Things happened very fast. The two costumers had left the trailer, Toni followed them out, and Chris rifled through clothes and outfits to construct one of his own liking. Satisfied in a matter of seconds, seemingly knowing exactly what he wanted, Chris smiled and turned to Sebastian. He set the clothes on a chair, listing them off as he went.

 

"This grey shirt, this black peacoat-- it'll be warm and suit your frame well, these black jeans, and this navy blue scarf. No hat, and the black Converse you're wearing will do just fine, as beaten to hell as they are." What. "I think the white trimming will go nice with everything, though, so they work." What? "You'll change, and we'll see how everything looks, and then film the opening sequence if it works out."

 

"Um, are you sure about this?" Because Stan had to ask, and this was all happening really quick. He needed to be certain this was what he was supposed to be doing.

 

"Of course I'm sure about this," Evans assured, nodding matter-of-factly. "You'll look great, you'll do great. I'm certain of it, Sebastian. I promise." He reached out and grabbed Sebastian's shoulder reassuringly, grinning like a child on Christmas morning. "Just don't overthink it. Do what's right for you for the character, it's all open to new ideas and some change here and there."

 

And well, who was Sebastian to start arguing again there? He nodded, more trying to convince himself than anything, letting the weight of Chris' hold do it's job of helping him believe he could maybe pull this off with only minor errors.

 

"If I fuck it up?" Sebastian asked.

 

"We got time to get your confidence up. What makes a good actor, Seb, is their ability to block out the outside world and live in the character's moment. You're James Barnes. Bucky. That's your name. You're gonna miss your train, pal. Better hurry and get ready, huh? Ten minutes to get dressed."

 

When Sebastian finally agreed, Chris gave his shoulder a pat, and went on his way so Stan could get ready and dressed. Shirt, jeans, coat, scarf, in that order. He slid his shoes back on when the seven minute task was accomplished, including all his wardrobe fidgeting, set his normal clothes on the chair in a semi-neat pile, and decided it was good enough. Well, after another thirty seconds of trying to decide whether or not to button the peacoat. It was left undone, which looked better. Then he looked in the mirror, shuffled and wiggled a little to make sure everything felt right, and had to come to terms with everything being as good as it was gonna get. At least he didn't look like a disaster.

 

"Seb?" a voice sounded, accompanied by a tap on the door. It was Chris checking in on him, probably to see if he was having a breakdown yet. "Everything fit alright?"

 

"Uh, yeah, I think so." Because he knew nothing about fashion, only usually threw on what matched and went along. "You can come in, I'm dressed." With about a minute to spare. See? He was killing the Hollywood game already. A miracle.

 

Chris opened up the door and let himself in then, two cups of coffee in his hands, and quickly assessed Sebastian's outfit. He tiled his head a little, crease forming between his brows, and set the cups on the table.

 

"Not this, it doesn't match as well as I anticipated. You can put your black one back on." Chris took the scarf Sebastian had on, tossed it on the rack, and snatched Sebastian's from his chair clothing pile. He arranged it around the brunet's neck, and stepped back with a satisfied expression gracing his features. "The jeans fit alright? I guessed the size correctly?"

 

"Yeah, they're good. Impressive guess."

 

"Thanks. Coat stays open?"

 

"Looks better like that, otherwise I'd be a blob of black fabric."

 

Chris huffed in amusement, and took the front ends of the coat himself to check. Together, apart, together, apart, together, and back apart.

 

"You're right. The light grey mellows it out a little. It works. Coat frames your shoulders well, by the way. You can move around?" Sebastian nodded. "Great. That's good. You want some coffee? Figured you might need one if the nerves aren't doing the job."

 

"Oh." How nice. "Sure, yes, please. Coffee sounds great. Thanks." Thank everything, Sebastian was gonna need some fuel if he was gonna do this. Caffeine energy and anxiety energy were a lot different. Coffee was gonna be a great choice for him.

 

Sebastian took the coffee gratefully as it was handed to him, doubling it as a hand warmer as he took a drink. Thank everything Chris knew how to order good coffee, otherwise this would be an even worse nightmare than it already was. Twenty minutes ago he was a lighting guy, and now he was the second lead role in a movie. And this film was supposed to be a really good one. A big project that people were going to have judged by critics and audiences. Sebastian must've had the worry plastered right on his face, because there Evans was looking at him all concerned with a hand resting on his arm. That concentrated crease between his brows was far too kind to be anything close to fair. But it was actually kind of comforting. Kind of.

 

"Y'know," Chris said. "I know you're gonna do good. The outfit itself is impressive, I'm sure your acting will be, too. We've got time, believe me. No one even has word out that this is in production yet, so don't worry if you feel like we gotta retake things a time or two. You'll get the hang of it, Seb. I know you will."

 

"I'm just-- inexperienced. And this is an important project to you. I've never actually acted, and no, school plays don't count either, because I was both a silent background character and horrible at it. Almost ruined a whole production."

 

Sebastian saw Chris stifle something close to a chuckle and smile at him, patting his arm and sitting down in one of the chairs from the table. "Your drama teacher is gonna regret ever kicking you out of that class, man, I swear by it. You may have been bad before, but high school was a lifetime ago, and we're all patient people. I just know that this role is yours, the script flows like easy conversation, and you can change a thing or two around here and there when you see it fit. People are gonna see you on screen and ask who you are and why they've never seen you before. Surely all the people who doubted you are gonna see you in this and be amazed."

 

"Is there really any other thing for them to be if I somehow pull this off?" Stan asked, raising a brow in question. No, it wasn't rhetorical either. He meant it.

 

"Probably not, but that's the fun part about it. Look at you, you look sharp and you're a witty guy. I know you'll do phenomenally here." Chris took a drink of his coffee, and hefted himself to his feet. "Now, come on, Barnes. We gotta crank out this opening sequence before we get old."

 

Sebastian agreed, and off they went. He trailed behind Chris outside, and people just kept looking at him like he was a new person. The stylists whistled, one told him he looked fantastic, hair and makeup shooed him away and complimented his curls. It was weird. Not a bad weird, per se, but weird. He wasn't used to attention. He just kind of gave a little smile at the praise, and kept behind Chris as he was lead to set. He knew how the script went, and Chris knew it, so they could get started right away. First scene was opening, as discussed, and all Sebastian had to do was run through the station and drop his phone for Chris to return to him. Or, James had to, so Nick would return it. Characters. Right. Right. Obviously. He was an actor now, had to answer to James.

 

"Alright!" a set designer shouted to get everyone's attention. "Second lead is here, we've got things to film, you two set?" Chris took Sebastian's coffee, handed it off, and gave a thumbs up. "James!" Sebastian. "You're stressing! Get a move on! Try not to miss your train!" Sebastian nodded, and looked to Chris, who gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder and another thumbs up before jogging off to get into place. Once he was confirmed in his spot, a checker nodded, handed Sebastian the prop phone, and went out of frame. "And, action!"

 

Oh, fuck, action. Action. Right.

 

Knowing fine well that actors take a second or two before moving once the camera starts rolling to make sure the scene is caught, Sebastian didn't feel as terrible about stuttering before taking off in character. He started running, bounding down the stairs in a staged panic, and easily followed the directions toward where he was supposed to cross by Chris. Nick. Whatever.

 

He raced toward the tracks, and fumbled with the phone as he got past Chris' character, dropping it to let it shatter as directed and skidding to a halt upon hearing the contact to the ground. He looked from the direction of the platform to the phone, stressed, which took all of four seconds, then groaned to himself before taking off again. James was supposed to ignore Nick's concerned protests, so Sebastian did, and kept running.

 

"Excuse me! Sir!" Sebastian heard behind himself, James pretending to not have, and went down more stairs just as the train was pulling out, ultimately slowing his run.

 

"No! Wait!" James tried, adrenaline guiding his body to pointlessly try getting the train to stop for him. "Come on! No!" But it was too late. The train had gone, and Sebastian halted, leaning over with his hands on his knees, out of breath.

 

James stood after a few moments, tipping his head back in annoyance to silently pray to some magical being that this couldn't possibly be happening to him, not now, and looked around helplessly before his eyes landed back on the stairs he came down. Train missed, he had no other choice, and began to walk towards the steps.

 

"Cut!" someone called, catching Sebastian's attention. Real world time. An assistant director was coming down the steps to meet him halfway. "Sebastian! Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!" And then came Chris trotting in with this huge smile on his face.

 

"Seb, you did it! Look at you! You're an actor!" Chris was... proud? Impressed? Which was interesting to see, because Sebastian had no idea if he was even doing anything he was supposed to. "You killed it, man! Totally killed it! I thought you said you couldn't act?"

 

"I, uh-- I can't." Sebastian reminded, making it to the top of the stairs only to have Chris take hold of his shoulders, happy as the guy could be. "That was running. Which, by the way, I hope we don't have to do much more. Because it's absolutely terrible and I'm not athletic."

 

"You don't. There's only two scenes for now unless we gotta change anything. But, dude, you did that in one take! It was flawless!"

 

"You sure? Because I don't know if I actually sold that."

 

"You absolutely sold it, believe me. It was awesome. People will love it. Welcome to the acting world, Mr Stan. You're gonna be a star."

 

"I was just running--"

 

"Doesn't matter, come on." Evans turned his head, shouting for the whole crew to hear. "Next take!"

 

Before Sebastian could get another word out, Chris was tugging him along and back the way they came in, towards the first floor for some other scene. Which, Sebastian was certain he'd fuck up. Because there were actual lines now, and he was bad with actual lines worse than he was with fluidity. It was a disaster event at best. Sebastian really didn't wanna be the one to disappoint here, but he probably didn't have any other choice. There was some fast-moving banter soon after this, and even though he knew what the lines were, he just... couldn't act. Making it believable would be almost impossible for him to do.

 

"Is this where you give me my phone back?" Sebastian asked dumbly, because he knew fine well that this was in fact where Nick was giving James his phone back. He felt stupid for opening his mouth, but Chris wasn't the least bit phased by it.

 

"Yeah, you'll come through here, I'll give you your phone back, and then it's an immediate jump to the cab conversation with the janitor." Chris thought for a second, pondering. "I guess after that we can do an immediate jump outside or we can cut for the night. Come back to it tomorrow."

 

"Oh," he nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets for lack of something better to do. "Guess we'll see, then? You're the director, I don't know what I'm doing here except you wouldn't allow me to stay with my crew. Now I'm a character in a fuckin' peacoat."

 

"Well, I scout talent. You've got it in you, pal. We'll cut afterwards, it's getting late anyway. Just come back to it tomorrow and let it overlap. Thankfully, I planned this all the right way, so there's no worries. Coffee, here."

 

Somehow, magic didn't end with just movie production. Chris could summon people just by casually speaking, mentioning something in passing that normal people would miss, and these people would just appear out of nowhere. Like the woman that took their coffee earlier. She swept in out of thin air, smile on her face, and handed the cups over just like that. Chris smiled gratefully, thanked her, and handed Sebastian his cup. Amazingly, it wasn't any less hot than it was when it was first handed to him back in the costuming trailer however long ago.

 

Magic. He swears by it. Total sorcery.

 

"You're good on lines?" Evans asked. "You're just fumbling, really. Trying to get home as soon as you possibly can."

 

"Boston," Sebastian nodded.

 

"Boston," Chris confirmed. "Where I'm originally from. Exactly."

 

"You hand the phone, I thank you, ask the janitor how I can use my ticket somewhere else, and get no luck whatsoever."

 

"Sounds about right. All it needs is you to work through it."

 

"Right. Sure."

 

"See? You're doing great. I made a good choice."

 

"Sounds fake, but okay."

 

"Truth isn't always what people wanna hear, Seb. Doesn't make it any less than what it is, unfortunately for you, pal." Then Chris handed their coffees back over to the woman that brought them, thanked her again, and shouted for the crew to hear. "We got this in the bag, guys! Let's get it rolling! You're all doing great!"

 

Sebastian was shooed off with a pat to his shoulder to his starting position, and Chris went to his spot, and the other director took a hold of the reigns. "Ready?" Nods all around. "Wonderful! And... Action!"


	2. Chapter 2

As it just turns out, Chris had decided to cut for the night afterwards, and couldn't stop telling Sebastian how well he was doing every five damn seconds to save his life. Coffee finished, changed back into the clothes that belonged to him, Stan stayed behind with everyone to help out cleaning and putting things back where they belonged and the like. He helped out the lighting crew mostly, his people, aligning the stands and casing things up. It was normal for him to hang back, he'd done it since he first started this job a few years ago. People just did their jobs and hung out for a little while to review the next day's projects and to-do lists and there just wasn't any chaos to it when you got in and started.

But now, well, Sebastian was suddenly an actor, and everything about his job wasn't even his job anymore. They'd taken his photos before he changed, went over the film's budget (holy fuck, they had so much to work with) and went over what Sebastian would be getting paid (holy fuck, he was getting paid way more than he thought for this gig), which was a hell of a lot more than what he was getting paid to play around in the rafters with spotlights and reflectors all day. He could die right there, to be entirely frank. But after the contracts were signed with Chris right there next to him all smiling and explaining everything and then some, Sebastian decided he wouldn't die, because he was a professional and didn't wanna look like a fool for being amazed by all this money he'd bring home after the film wrapped. Also, he didn't wanna look like a fool in front of Chris, aka the only person here trying to make this all run as smoothly as humanly possible.

New York's version of Hollywood was scary. Sebastian didn't know if the panic threats were worth enough or not. They were cutting it close, dancing on a line. Maybe that was because he was still new.

"Hey, you ditchin' me already, man?" Sebastian heard below him, and he looked down from the Grand Central rafters to see Chris standing there.

"Can't afford it, so no." Honesty is the best policy. That, and there was no other answer coming to mind. "I'm one of the nice guys around here, I like to help after things are called to quits for the day. Figured you'd be long gone by now, what's keeping you around?"

"I may be the director, but that doesn't mean all this stuff doesn't matter to me. Behind the scenes brings it to life, Seb. I care."

"You got a date with one of the riggers, then?" he asked, roping up a spotlight to keep it in position, knotting it tight.

"Nope." Even popped the p. How fancy of him.

"How's that right?"

"You're not a rigger anymore. Simple."

Right then, Sebastian almost fell right off the rafters, because Chris had to open his big mouth and say some bullshit to throw him off balance. His foot caught, he hobbled a little, and had to hang on for dear life not to fall and to release his foot from the metal. Internally, screaming for a multitude of reasons. Outside, nearly breaking his neck. He dared a glance down to Chris, whom of which looked very concerned, and felt very stupid.

"I'm fine." Sebastian spoke, before Evans could open his mouth. "Wipe that look off your face."

"Are you sure?" Yes. "You gotta be more careful, Seb. Can't have you bailing on this film, too."

"I feel like the guy before me had his reasons. I think I'm understanding a few of them."

"Fair assumption, but it's probably not what any of us think it is."

"You mean to tell me he gave up all that money without so much as a word why he was heading out?" People do that. They'd done it before on sets Sebastian's team had to throw out, but he was still surprised every time.

"Yep." Another popped p. That dick. "You gonna get down from there any time soon? I don't like that tripping thing you're doing very much."

"The miracle of that is nobody asked if you did," he retorted, grabbing a rope as he sat on one of the intersecting poles, yanking a reflector up from position. Easy stuff, especially without his jacket in the way. Chris seemed impressed.

"You went from super respectful and kind a few hours ago to nothin' but snarky comebacks every other sentence. Is kindness a facade you hold?"

"Depends," Stan responded, tying off a knot and hauling the reflector up and over the bars. "Is shooting your shot something you do with every second lead you talk your way into casting? Do that with the other one? That why he ran away?"

"No. I don't. And that's not why."

"Then no, it's not a facade. I'm actually a nice person. Ramp it up a little so I don't get fired from projects I can't afford to sit out on. Right now, Mr Director Guy, I'm tired. Isn't there a rule for people like you not to shoot at the lower rungs on the business ladder? Ain't you supposed to look up it?"

"That's an idea people have, but it's not true, and you're just as important here as I am. You're the one that's calling it a date anyhow. This back and forth stuff mean you're saying no?"

"You gonna fire me if I tell you no? You one of those big Hollywood guys that use your money and American-born white male privilege to get whatever you want outta the people you look at?"

"No. I'm nothing close to that. As disgusting as the saying is, and as much as I hate using it, not everyone is like that. I prefer to stay far away from that mess, and let those assholes get their careers ruined on their own time."

"That's poorly stated."

"It's why I'm more often behind the camera. Bad with words."

"Hey, Chris?"

"Yeah, Sebastian?"

"You're buying."

"I figured. My offer, my tab. You can say no."

"I know. I'd drop a spotlight on you if you tried to make me agree. These things weigh a hell of a lot, I can slip."

"But you won't."

"Nope. Because you're not making me say yes. Where are you dragging me to?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"You want food or alcohol more?"

"Can I choose both?"

"You can."

"I'd rather eat."

"So would I. We'll go wherever you like."

And so it was decided. Apparently, somewhere in this mess of a conversation, Sebastian managed to get the idea that going on a sort-of-but-not-really date with one particular Christopher Evans was a good plan.

  
As it turns out, Chris Evans isn't the worst time. He's kind, which is absolutely appreciated, liked that Sebastian wanted to get food from a street vendor, and makes good choices with what to order. The two of them decided on tacos, real tacos and not whatever Taco Bell had going, and it was alright. For half past eleven at night, it was a solid choice. And, well, it was good. Chris was also gracious enough to throw in some drinks to the order, which ended up being sodas.

For saying he was bad with words, Chris was nice to talk to. He didn't look at Sebastian like everyone else did when he had to translate in his head, making Romanian to German to English a tad slower in unscripted conversation. He didn't look at him weird or annoyed, didn't finish sentences for him except as people do when he was excited about the topic, and didn't detach from the conversation. Wanted Sebastian to get a word in, wanted to listen. It was new, it was good to have going for him. Chris was pretty alright, and Sebastian figured working with him in their new predicament wouldn't be half bad after all.

There was an okay flow of conversation, and turns out this whole thing wasn't actually a date, and they were just hanging out as people would outside of work. Eating and just talking, which was perfectly normal, and neither of them were complaining.

"You said today that you wanted to be a number of things when you were little," Chris prompted, sounding genuinely interested in the subject. "What kind of things did you wanna do with yourself, Seb? Like, career-wise. No, it's not an interview, I just gotta ask."

"Um," Sebastian started to answer, going back to that little-kid-big-dreams era of his life when he first came to America. "I wanted to be a gymnast, an astronaut, an author, and an actor. Got bored of the gymnast thing, I like space and everything about it but I don't think living in it is too for me quite yet, and no one in America reads Romanian literature or poorly translated English. Those went out the window, obviously. And then, in high school, I was booted from theatre, so acting flew out of sight, too. I just started doing stuff I didn't suck at. Waiting tables, gigs at cinema concession stands selling popcorn and stuff, and then somewhere down the line I got into lighting and set design. Went to Rutgers in Jersey, I have a bachelors, I was in the alumni, and ended up on a salary yet also kind of commissioned job playing with spotlights and aesthetics and stuff for movies and shows. At this point, I'm rambling on, but that's kind of it. Wanted what I couldn't have, every kid does."

"No, it's okay, don't worry about it," Evans assured, shaking his head and taking a drink from his soda bottle. Pepsi, for some reason. Sebastian had a Sprite. "When did everything you want become so unattainable? How old were you, man?"

"I was like... seventeen, I guess. That's the age I realized, but everything stopped being mine at sixteen. I was like a sophomore, junior in high school. I just let it be. Plenty of other jobs for immigrant kids, right?"

"Sebastian, you've been here since you were twelve, right?" Stan nodded. "That's four to five years from coming to this country and having everything ripped right from you. That's not okay, you were a kid. It's been like nine to ten years since you gave it up because what, being an immigrant? People here, your teachers and mentors and idols, they're supposed to push you to your goals. Doesn't matter if you wanna be an astronaut or a gymnast or an actor, an author. That's their jobs to help you, keep that dream alive if not get you to achieve it. It's total bullshit, is what they all did to you. Total bullshit."

"I didn't give it up, I realized I wasn't qualified for any of it after trying a few times. I’m not heartbroken. Overweight kid as a gymnast? God, and a kid with a shitty accent forgetting script lines and a whole other language slipping out of his mouth? Translating Romanian to German to English just to write a book? An astronaut, really think I could be an astronaut?"

"Seb--"

"I got over it, Chris. Believe me, it wasn't that hard. My mom hated it, but I was almost an adult and needed to just get things done. Took me ten years and you not letting me get a word in for me to be acting, which is still gonna disappoint you because I really do suck at it, what would I have done just waiting all that time for an opportunity? I left it alone, I found something as close to what I wanted to do as possible, and ran with it. I work around actors and directors all the time. Maybe not alongside them like I wanted, but it's close enough for me not to complain. It's all I could've pushed my luck for. You're getting angry about it for no good reason, it's okay. People get their dreams and aspirations shoved aside all the time, I'm not special."

"That's not true," Chris argued, a frustrated crease between his brows.

"People don't get their dreams and aspirations shoved aside all the time?" Sebastian asked, joking of course, leaning his elbows on the metal table.

"No. You know what I'm talking about. Every single person with any sort of good dream is special enough to be allowed to pursue it. Not have it crushed right there in front of their face."

"You callin' me special now? Thought this didn't count as a date, pal."

"Sebastian."

"Chris."

"You're fucking with me."

"A little bit, yeah. But just because I don't care anymore. I mean, dude, I'm acting now. Aren't I? There, congratulations, you handed me a childhood dream of mine. You did that, are you happy? Because you should hold onto that for when you see what my drama teacher was so disappointed in. At least fake a smile when I get terrible at this."

"I'm not gonna get disappointed."

"You might."

"You're an actor now."

"Kind of, yeah, I am. It's your doing, good job. I'm not gonna be able to give you anything for it, so let's hope that's not part of the deal."

"It's not."

"I'm an actor, Evans."

"You're an actor, Stan."

"Now eat the rest of your food. And don’t waste it. I'll hit you."


End file.
